The Dare Collection September 2018. Stefanie London

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СКАЧАТЬ against her will. And you know that I never would have put her in harm’s way. If I’d known that storm was coming—that the streets would be so slick...”

      His jaw tightens as he readies the materials. “She’s dead, Damien,” he says. “Don’t you think it was bad enough she wanted you instead of me? It doesn’t change the fact that I loved her and lost her twice in the span of one night. But I will not let you die for it.”

      He puts on a pair of latex gloves and cleans the wound over my eye, but he won’t look directly at me. So I grab the collar of his shirt and force him to.

      “I loved her, too, Nikolai. I loved her and lost her and wasn’t even allowed to fucking mourn her. At least you got that. And now you have Kate. And a baby on the way. I’m sorry for what I did, but I can’t change it. I can’t take it back. I get it,” I say. “I’m poison to anyone I love. I can’t seem to escape that. But you can at least acknowledge that I lost something, too.”

      He raises a syringe. “This is gonna hurt.”

      Then he stabs my skin with the needle, and I hiss through clenched teeth. But by the time he depresses the plunger, I can already feel the cool prickle of the numbing agent kicking in.

      “And here I thought you’d sew me up without anesthetic,” I say. “Where the hell did you learn this little trick, anyway?”

      The corner of his mouth twitches. “Spend enough time with X, brother, and you’ll learn a thing or two.”

      “He teach you lock-picking, too?” I ask as he begins to suture the wound.

      Nikolai shakes his head. “Learned that when I was thirteen and wanted to get into the wine cellar for a little taste.”

      I wince as the needle hits a piece of skin that isn’t quite numb.

      “Sorry,” he says, and I actually think he means it. “But we need to get you patched up and out of here.”

      “How do you know Juliet is safe?” I ask.

      My brother’s jaw twitches, a subtle nervous tell. “X called and told me what happened after Juliet’s sonogram. He wanted to make sure Kate and I were safe since he knew we were here as well. He mentioned something about a live broadcast Nightgardin had prepared for this evening but assumed it had nothing to do with Juliet since she was safe.”

      “But she’s not,” I growl.

      Nikolai shakes his head.

      “Three times I failed her,” I say. “Twice today—and the first time when they took her from me in Nightgardin.”

      Nikolai’s eyes widen. “You remember?”

      He ties off another suture, and I nod. “It’s my baby,” I say. “I have no doubt.”

      “You love her,” he says with realization.

      “Since the moment I laid eyes on her after the Nightgardin Rally. Though now, after what happened before they took her, she must think...”

      “Done,” Nikolai says. “Eleven sutures. You lost a lot of blood, but the dizziness will hopefully subside soon.” He pulls something from his pocket and places it in my palm.

      The key to the Alfa Romeo.

      “I might have taken it for a little spin this morning,” he says with a wink. “It’s parked out back. Kate and I will call for a car to get home.”

      “What makes you think I won’t fail again?” I ask.

      Nikolai shakes his head. “It’s time I admit that I failed Victoria, too. I knew she was unhappy but refused to believe she could want anything other than what she was being offered—the chance to be queen. The monarchy is important, but it took me a long time to learn that other things rank as high.”

      I chuckle. “Are you about to lecture me on the merits of true love?”

      He removes the surgical gloves and crosses his arms.

      “You’re the one living out the legend of Maximus and Calista,” he said. “Go rescue your queen, but please avoid the whole Lovers’ Leap part of the story.”

      I grip the key in my palm. “I’ll never get past the Nightgardin gates in a fucking race car,” I say. “They’ll hear me a mile away.”

      Nikolai’s phone buzzes, and he pulls it from his jacket pocket. He laughs softly as he reads the text, then turns the screen to face me. It’s a text from X.

      Please inform Prince Damien that alternate transportation awaits him at the Rosegate and Nightgardin border. Good luck and Godspeed.

      “How the hell did he—?”

      “You know better than to question the inimitable skills of a man called X,” Nikolai interrupts.

      “Thank you, brother,” I tell him, and then I’m out the door, racing for the stairwell because fuck if I’ll step into an elevator again.

      And then I’m behind the wheel—a place that used to spell death and destruction, or at least my wish for them. I start the engine with renewed purpose, then glance in the mirror to check my brother’s handiwork.

      I am beaten, bloodied and scarred—marked with reminders of the mistakes I’ve made.

      But I am no longer broken without repair, not if Juliet still believes in me. I just have to get to her in time.

      Good thing I know how to drive fast.

      Juliet

      A brown mouse furtively runs along the stable wall in the direction of the burlap feed bag in the corner. Normally the sight would fill me with fear, send me screaming in the opposite direction. But now I can’t even muster the energy to watch it climb up to feast inside the oats. It turns out there are far worse fears to face in this world than a marshmallow-sized rodent.

      And tonight I shall be subjected to them all.

      Nightgardin has never signed on to any international treaty banning torture. Despite decades of intense lobbying from human rights groups, the monarchy has steadfastly maintained the position that no outside body will ever regulate the kingdom’s operations. We are ruled by direct reign, although I had privately planned to make changes when I took the throne, to ensure our small country looked forward and embraced change.

      But I never had a chance. My mother plans to rule forever.

      A furious tear slides down my cheek, echoing the trickle of blood coursing down each forearm as I tear the flesh from my wrists. I won’t be able to instill any progressive changes. I can’t even free myself from these stupid ropes pinning my hands above my head.

      There’s a tightening in my abdomen, a spasm of contracting muscles. It can’t be the baby stirring as it’s still far too small, but it’s a persistent sensation.

      A flicker.

      A flame.

      As much as I want to give up hope СКАЧАТЬ